


No Other Sadness in the World Would do

by raleighsbecket



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Amy and her two boys, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Crushes, F/M, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Size Difference, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, To Be Edited, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raleighsbecket/pseuds/raleighsbecket
Summary: At first, Ethan thought he was jealous of Mark. He's seen Amy, with her dark hair and wide eyes, her creative view of the world. The way her hands work as she makes her ceramics and bakes them cookies and pies for their brainstorming sessions. He's heard her support him, trying to build his confidence in a way no one else has. He was sure it was her, with her gentle voice and pretty laugh, how she always seemed to have his back no matter.Then, he thought he was jealous of Amy. He's seen Mark, with his dark hair and dark eyes. He's seen how dedicated he is to his content, to their content, his love for his fans and his channel. His creative outlook on his various skits and stories that he was so kind as to let him be a part of. He's heard the way Mark supports him, makes him feel confident too. The way he's protective yet annoying, how he loves to gloat during the videos but will reassure him afterwards that he doesn't think he's better in any way.And then, he realised he was jealous of neither of them.(In which Ethan is in love with his two best friends but doesn't know how to tell them and Amy and Mark just want him to be happy.)
Relationships: Amy Nelson/Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson/Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 304





	No Other Sadness in the World Would do

**Author's Note:**

> Ethan is unhinged and so am I. 
> 
> Don't expect this to be anything remotely coherent because I wrote it in a frenzy in the middle of the night because I'm so enamoured with the thought of this ot3 that I had to before I went insane. Enjoy.

It started with a whisper, not a bang. Or whatever the cliche was.

It was watching Mark touch the small of Amy's back, seeing them giggle together, seeing the pictures they posted or hearing Mark say his infamous _hi Amy_. It was the absent minded touches, packing snacks and making sure that the other knew they were supported. It was spending time together making Unus Annus videos, outlandish ideas sported and even suggested, it was going out to buy props together, backing up the other's idea. The interjections during videos, the worry of safety. 

At first, Ethan thought he was jealous of Mark. He's seen Amy, with her dark hair and wide eyes, her creative view of the world. The way her hands work as she makes her ceramics and bakes them cookies and pies for their brainstorming sessions. He's heard her support him, trying to build his confidence in a way no one else has. He was sure it was her, with her gentle voice and pretty laugh, how she always seemed to have his back no matter.

Then, he thought he was jealous of Amy. He's seen Mark, with his dark hair and dark eyes. He's seen how dedicated he is to his content, to their content, his love for his fans and his channel. His creative outlook on his various skits and stories that he was so kind as to let him be a part of. He's heard the way Mark supports him, makes him feel confident too. The way he's protective yet annoying, how he loves to gloat during the videos but will reassure him afterwards that he doesn't think he's better in any way. 

And then, he realised he was jealous of neither of them. It seemed like it could've been a cliche, if he was in love with his best friend's significant other but this is so much worse. This is being in love with someone he can't have but in the worst way possible. It's being in love with _two_ people but not having the option to be with either. At least in cliche love triangles, he would've been an option. Here, he can't be. 

And it shows.

It shows in how he _knows_ he's leaving meeting earlier than normal, how he's been more distracted during shoots and how he's been a few hours late editing and uploading videos. He's got the many texts to prove it, the many _are you okay_ s and the many _you can talk to me if you want to_ but he hasn't replied to any of them and that shows when he shows up to their house, Spencer in tow, to film another set of Unus Annus videos and the atmosphere might as well have been that of a warzone. He feels like a solider, ridden with bullet holes and unable to call for help because his only allies have just turned their back on him.

He tried to ignore the bullet wounds, tried to patch up the holes with his own hands but there's too many and he's bleeding out. 

"I don't know how I feel about this," Mark commented. He was standing knee deep in the pool. It was packed with the various weird and wacky pool toys they'd been trying that day. "Maybe we should reshot the ending?"

"It's an option." Amy said. She was holding the camera, as always, and standing just off. "I mean, these videos have never been _that_ polished unless they have to be..."

"That's true." Mark nodded. "What do you think?"

Ethan, so engrossed in petting Chica and ignoring them, took a few moments to realise that he was being spoken to. "Oh, uh... I thought it was fine."

There was a tick of Mark's brow. It knit together. He wasn't entirely convinced. "I'm not sure it was though."

Amy sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides, the camera dangling there. "We don't need to reshot, Mark, it was perfect. We can fix whatever you want fixed in editing."

Mark placed his hands on his hips. "Fine. I'll take the editing duty for this video then."

"You'll get no arguments from the team," Amy noted with a slight smile. "Who enjoys editing?"

Mark nodded in agreement and began to move out of the pool. The water sloshed around him until he was out. He wore just his trunks, letting the California sun shine down on his tanned skin, water and sweat making his abs glisten. There was a reason why Ethan had abandoned the pool and turned his attention onto their pets instead. Everyday he was faced with this and he couldn't handle it anymore. It was unfair but it was his own fault for agreeing to a year long channel with the worst possible people to spend too much time with.

(In his defence, he hadn't thought it'd be _that_ bad.)

Amy moved too, making her way across the back garden to put the camera safely in doors to avoid damage or loss of footage. As she passed Mark, she nudged him with her elbow. They spent a few silent moments arguing with just facial expressions before Mark relented and began to drift closer to Ethan.

"Hey, we're gonna go out for dinner tonight," Mark said. 

Ethan looked up at him. Now, he frowned. Was Mark just telling him that to gloat? That wasn't really fair.

"Uh.... cool." Ethan nodded.

"No, I mean, what I'm trying to say is," Mark said, quickly. "Would you wanna come with us?"

Ethan considered it. Sitting at a table with them had never been weird until his own heart had made it weird. He couldn't imagine sitting there, eating and drinking and having fun all while Mark and Amy rubbed their love in his face. He knew that the joviality of it all could be good, he could ignore the stabbing pain every time he saw them exchange a look or touch or kiss and pretend he was a good little first wheel. 

"Do I?" Ethan asked.

Mark looked around, probably for help. "Um, that's what I'm asking..."

"Oh..." Ethan stopped brushing his fingers through Chica's fur and stood up. "Yeah, not really. I'm good."

"Are you sure?" Mark asked. "We have plenty of room! And if you don't wanna go out, we can hang out here. Order take out or make it ourselves. God knows we have plenty of onions left...."

Ethan knew the last statement was meant to be a joke but he couldn't laugh at it. In fact, it made him feel the way onions made most people feel: like crying.

"I'm sure." Ethan said. "You two have fun, alright?"

"You're leaving?" Mark asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Ethan could feel his cheeks burning. "Spencer probably needs to get back home, for his dinner too. I don't want to keep him waiting!"

His own attempt at a joke but it only left Mark looking even more dumbfounded. Ethan didn't want to reflect on it. Instead, he began to move. He plucked up his t-shirt and phone from the garden table and headed in doors. He wans't as wet as he had been when he'd just gotten out of the pool but he was careful to both not tread water over their home and to not fall. He was running away, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he wasn't, and he couldn't afford anything getting in the way of it. 

In the kitchen, he found the rest of his things - the shoes he pulled on and Spencer's leash. The dog came up to him, none the wiser of the storm in his owner's head, and Ethan clipped it onto his collar. He'd done good, he thought, as he reached the door and no one had come to stop him. He was doing good until he heard a voice.

"Hey," it was Amy. "You're leaving in a rush?"

"Yeah," Ethan muttered, not turning to look at her. "Mark can explain it to you."

It sounded far more graver than he intended it to and then he was gone, running out of the door like the house was on fire.

* * *

Three hours and about four or five White Claws was all it took to end up sprawled out on his bed, hazel eyes on the ceiling as it swayed under the intensity of his stare. Spencer was curled up at his hip, the curve of his body pressing against it. 

Ethan was in no way a heavy drinker. He didn't turn to drink to deal with his emotions, he was far more mentally adjusted than that, even if there was bad days. But today felt really bad and even when he got home, showered and changed into something comfy, he hadn't been able to get the image out of his head. He could still see it now.

Amy and Mark dressed up, gazing into each other's eyes from across the table, holding hands as their drinks arrived - wine for Amy, something non-alcoholic for Mark. They'd have their food and then maybe split a desert. They'd go back to their home, undress and try to unwind for the night. It might not work, Mark might do some editing work and Amy might do some for her business. They might fall into bed together later tonight.

And it was that that was the catalyst. He thought of Amy slipping into bed in only her panties and a crop top, curling up next to Mark's solid, also semi naked form. He couldn't be sure who would start it but maybe Mark would slip his fingers into Amy's panties or Amy would curl her hand around him and they'd please each other. He could see Amy on top of Mark, riding him as Mark gripped her hips and left dents and bruises. She might press them together, chest to chest, her fingers clawing over his sturdy back. They'd climax together, because that was always romantic wasn't it, and then they'd fall into each other and go to sleep. 

And he was here just himself, semi drunk and wanting to scream how much he loved them. 

Instead, he closed his eyes, dipped under the covers and touched himself. He wrapped his own hand around his cock, slowly pumping until it went from semi hard to fully hard. He kept his eyes closed against the darkness of night and imagined it all over again.

When that only worked to make him sad, he tried another avenue.

He thought of Amy on his left, naked and small against him, her breasts against his skin as she pressed gentle kisses to his shoulder. She would praise him, egg him on as he kept going, hand working faster and more expertly. _You're doing so good_ , he could hear in her voice. To his right would be Mark, strong and steady and so handsome. He would be kissing his neck and Ethan leaned his head further to the side to allow him access even though he wasn't here. It was the perfect scene, the three of them together, all wrapped up in each other, and Ethan barely felt the tug and pull of his own climax until his hand with sticky and wet and he realised he was alone. 

Always alone. Always sticky and wet by his own pathetic hand. 

As he got up to clean himself up and make sure the sheets weren't ruined, he didn't see the way his phone lit up with another text. 

* * *

Three days. 

Three days he stayed away from them. They had videos to shoot and things to plan but Ethan ignored them. 

He was awful for it but he couldn't help it. Every time he thought about going over, hanging out with them in any capacity, he thought about that drunken masturbation session and had to back out. He'd done it before, jerked off to the thought of Mark or Amy or both but something had changed. A difference in attitude, maybe, or he had just grown so tired of pretending that he couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't spend another day pretending they didn't kill him with each small glance and word. 

So, he holed himself up, didn't answer their calls or texts or emails. He didn't tweet, post anything himself, and decided that the complete radio silence was the _perfect_ way to handle this. It wasn't worrisome at all and he was definitely acting like an adult. He wasn't treating them unfairly nor was he acting like a brat. No, this was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

Expect it was hour ten of day three and he'd run out of bad Netflix shows to watch and he had no comfort snacks left and even Spencer had abandoned him. Ethan had tried to entice him over with snacks and the promise of cuddles and pets but the dog just tilted his head to the side and walked off. 

_Yeah_ , Ethan thought, _me too_.

He decided then that he couldn't wallow on an empty stomach and placed an order for some food. Maybe too much, but it was a promise for later, something to nibble on as he watched some teenagers delved into a toxic relationship and yell at each other on beaches. It would be fun, he tried to convince himself, but he was so far past having fun with anything. Even the games he enjoyed playing were pointless. He didn't want to play them and he couldn't even pick up a controller. 

He wasn't depressed, no. He wouldn't say that even if he was acting like it. All he was doing was hiding away until he got over this stupid school boy crush and then he'd go back into society like nothing happened. 

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. 

Too soon for his food, so it had to be something else. Maybe a package, maybe a neighbour. 

He got up and trudged across the house to reach the front door. He looked a mess so to try and combat it, he pulled up the hood of his hoodie and smoothed it down. He barely realised that it was Mark's until the last second and then he only wanted to curl up once more. But no, he had human contact to engage in. 

Opening the door, he began to hate himself for not doing just that.

"Oh, he's _alive_ ," the tone was meant to be jovial but Mark just looked pissed. "You can answer the door but not your phone?"

Ethan bit his bottom lip. "lost it."

"Did you?" Mark asked.

Ethan sighed and turned away from him. He walked further into the house and heard Mark follow, the door closing behind him. He was trying to get back to the living room but was stopped by a strong hand. He turned to face Mark, rather upset but it didn't show on his face.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mark asked. "You went awol and didn't answer us on _anything_. I even fucking messaged you on Twitter, that's how _bad_ it is."

"It's been three days," Ethan pointed out. "Not three hundred. Calm down."

"We're just worried about you," Mark said, now sounding a little calmer. "You haven't come over for the videos or just to hang out. In fact, you _only_ come over for the videos now. It's like you've stopped being our friend..."

Ethan couldn't argue with that. He had stopped acting like a friend. "I'm... just tired Mark, that's all."

The concern that drifted over Mark's handsome features almost made Ethan want to scream _don't do that, don't fucking do that, I was trying to move on and now you're doing that? it's not fair, it's not fair_.

"Tired or _tired_?" Mark asked. "Because one is good and the other... Well, we can help you with the other. But hiding from us and acting like you don't want to know us isn't helping."

"It's not helping _you_ ," Ethan pointed out, letting the anger seep into his tone. "I'm perfectly fine here, alone."

"C'mon, Ethan," Mark sighed. "Is this really what you want?"

Ethan crossed his arms, attempting to make himself as small as he possibly could. "Mark, I want you to leave."

Mark had the audacity to look hurt. Ethan wanted to smack him, scream at him that he had _no_ right to be hurt when all they did was hurt him. 

"I'm not going until I make sure you're okay." Mark countered. "Have you been walking Spencer? Eating? Sleeping? Do you want us to go and -"

"I don't want you to do anything!" Ethan yelled, cutting him off. "I want you to get the fuck out of my house!"

Mark stared, mouth agape. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"You!" Ethan snapped. "You have! Don't you get it? I'm ignoring you for a reason!"

The way Mark's eyes shimmered then, brown pools of agony, made Ethan hate himself. He didn't want to hurt Mark but he was so full of pent up agony that it'd come out as that. He took a step forward, arms falling to his sides but Mark held up a hand. 

"Did I do something?" Mark asked.

Ethan looked down, eyes stinging. "No. That's the problem."

Mark's jaw set. "If you want me to leave... I will... but can you at least promise to let me or Amy know you're okay?"

Ethan shook his head. Mark sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. 

"You're making this hard for me..." Mark admitted.

"Yeah, cause you're such a walk in the park," Ethan answered.

"God, what has gotten into you?" Mark asked. "You're acting like such an asshole. I worry about you and all you do is tell me you want me to leave? Fine! I'm going! Don't fucking bother seeing me out."

Ethan sighed, heavily and watched as Mark turned, walking right out of the door he had just entered in. 

Once it closed, he balled up his hands, scrubbing at his eyes to try and rid them of the tears but it was too late. The spilled down his cheeks and he crumpled to the floor in agony.

* * *

It was never supposed to be like this. He and Mark were friends, had been for so long. Ethan had looked up to him and through him, he'd met his other best friend, Amy. This was all a mess. It'd been a week now. He hadn't spoken to either of them, though it wasn't as if Mark reached out to him either. 

Amy did, however, which was just so much more painful. 

At first, it had been a few texts a day, some asking if he was okay or if he needed something, others asking if he would just try and speak to them, speak to Mark. She was trying her hardest to fix something he had fractured and that wasn't fair. Ethan felt more on the brink the more texts she sent, so it was good when those few texts dwindled down to once a day and then nothing. 

And by good, he meant it was agonising to see the contact between them dwindle to one last text of _Ethan I'm trying but you need to try back_. 

Try back. Trying.

He'd been trying for months now. Trying not to be a third wheel, trying not to ruin friendships and relationships and that was what had happened in the end. He was now alone, with only his dog, and the two people he cared most about in the world were gone. 

Tears trickled down his cheeks as he curled up in bed, Mark's hoodie still on his body as he wiped them away. What was the use? Why was he pretending? 

He picked up his phone. It was 3am. 

He found Amy's number. 

He called it.

Ring after ring but it didn't go through.

He got the voicemail message and had to bite back a sob.

"Hey," his voice rasped from the lack of use and crying. "I'm... I'm so sorry but I couldn't do it anymore."

 _No, Ethan,_ a voice screamed at him, _this is the start of a suicide note_. 

"Hang out with you, I mean," he clarified. "It's so... so _hard_ to watch you be in love when I... When I...."

(Pop quiz time. How do you tell your best friend that you're in love with her and her boyfriend? How do you tell your best friend that you wanted to be with them forever?

A) You don't and you wallow in self pity for the rest of your life.

B) You don't and you die.

C) You do and you ruin everything forever.

D) You do and break your own heart.)

"You and Mark... you're the best thing to happen in my life... My best friends and My - My -" He stopped, drawing in a deep breath and closing his eyes. "And _everything_ I've ever wanted. I love you. I love Mark. I love you _both_ and it's killing me... everyday, not to be with you. I... I had to leave because I couldn't do this anymore. I can't just be around you and be okay with that... Tell Mark I'm sorry. Tell... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Ethan ended the call, tossed his phone across the room and right out of the door and then curled up again. He began to cry harder, right to a restless sleep.

He'd never been too good at pop quizzes anyway...

* * *

He woke up late the next day, around one in the afternoon. He was groggy and sore and still sad but somewhat relieved. 

A weight had been lifted off of his shoulders now and it made walking easier. It made getting up and going downstairs to get some coffee easier. He managed to get some breakfast (or was it lunch?) and act like everything was okay. 

That was, on the principle that he didn't check his phone. Which he did. Because he had to. 

A single text. That was all he had. Two simple words.

 _Call_ _me_.

Sent to him six hours ago by Amy. It was too late to answer and even now, he couldn't bring himself to do it. His hands shook as he stared at it. What was he supposed to do? Call them and get their rejection in real time? No, he couldn't handle it. As much as he felt light for admitting out loud, he knew he couldn't face them. This was it, the end of it all. The whimper that ended it all. 

_I can't_.

He sent the text with shaking hands and a dropped stomach. He no longer had an appetite and instead choose to do something to keep his attention on _anything_ else. He changed from the same clothes he'd been wearing for too long for it not to be embarrassing and grabbed Spencer's leash. 

They went out for a run. A long one, the sun beating down on him as he ran along sidewalks and paths and some grass. Spencer enjoyed it too, be able to run for an extended period of time instead of the quick walks they'd been on recently. It did help to clear his head a little and he felt like he could keep going, keep running until he was in another part of the country, or even back home to Maine, and he could just stay there, change his name and start a new life. 

It sounded like fun. It also sounded like running away. 

He decided just to go back to the house.

When he entered, his phone lay on the kitchen counter, ignored and abandoned. He filled up Spencer's food and water dishes and then headed back upstairs for a shower. He took as long as he needed in there, letting the water run over his body and loosen some muscles while sweeping away the sweat. It was calming but the four exchanged words kept running over and over in his mind.

_Call me._

_I can't._

_Call me. I can't._

_callmeican't._

It was the pain of having your feelings known but never being able to do anything about it.

Ethan got out of the shower and went right to bed. 

* * *

He woke up in the dead of night, verging on early morning, and he wished it was a spur of the moment thing but it wasn't. 

It was the sound of someone at the door. Even in his bedroom, he could hear. 

He got up, carefully, and crept downstairs. The closer he got to the door, the more nervous he grew. If it was an emergency, then he might be okay with that. If it was a robber or murderer, then that was fine too because at least then he'd get to ignore everything that had happened over the past (almost) two weeks. He'd welcome it with a sweet embrace he had been aching for. 

He flicked on the kitchen light, crossed the ground, and opened the door. 

He stared, in shock and awe, at two faces he hadn't seen in such a long time. Forever had only lasted a few days.

"Uh..." was his awesome greeting.

"Don't you know what _call me_ means?" Amy asked. She sounded both angry and sad. "What do you mean _you can't_?"

Ethan stared at her and then to Mark then back again. He was unsure about this, what was happening, and if he had just dreamt it all. It seemed like a dream, the dark of the night behind them, the breeze that felt uncharacteristically cold. He said nothing and stepped aside, allowing them inside. They came in and he closed the door behind them, forehead resting on the door for a few seconds. 

"You can't just walk away from us," Amy continued. "You're acting insane, Ethan."

Ethan turned to her. "Didn't you get _my_ text?"

"I did," she said. "And we spoke about it. You can't just run from us because you're -"

She cut herself off. She didn't have to finish.

 _You're_. 

It was such a lonely word. Such a lonely beginning to a lonely phrase. 

_You're in love with us_.

Nothing else. Nothing more.

His heart broke.

"You're pushing us away." Mark said, sensing the tension. "You shouldn't..."

"And then what?" Ethan asked. "I said here before you, and everything goes on as normal and you two keep on being happy and I'm left with _what_? Nothing! I just have to watch you two be happy and in love and I get _nothing_."

"You don't want us to be happy?" Mark asked, rather tactlessly.

Amy nudged him in response. "Mark..."

"No, I do," Ethan said. "I just... I can't be happy. With or without you, it hurts but it's easier to be without."

Amy and Mark bristled, sharing an uneasy look between them. They must have been considering it and Ethan half expected them to agree and walk away. He wanted them to because it would be easier. If they choose to leave now, he could consider it the harshest rejection he'd ever had and it would be _done_. They would never speak again, collabs would go dormant along with feelings and it would like nothing had ever happened. They would move on and the fans would move on and nothing would ever be the same again but it would be for the better. No one got hurt.

No one got hurt besides him, anyway.

"Don't you get it, Ethan?" Amy asked. " _We_ don't want to be without you either."

Ethan drew in a deep breath. It didn't help. The breath or her words. "What?"

Amy shook her head. She looked ethereal in the moonlight. It shone against her dark hair as she crossed the room and stood before him. Gently hands grasped his shoulders and then, she kissed him.

She kissed him. 

_She kissed him_.

Ethan couldn't react, not for the longest moment. When he eventually got the guts to do so, she pulled away and all he could do was taste the pear chaptstick she had used. 

"You're so stupid," she muttered to him. "Why didn't you just talk to us?"

Ethan looked at her and then to Mark. He wondered if he'd see a splash of jealousy, maybe anger, but all he saw was the soft expression of a man admiring what had happened before him. It made his heart pound. 

"I... it would've been weird," he tried but he kept thinking of how she had kissed him.

"Nothing weird about it," Mark said, coming closer too. "We didn't realise we were causing you so much pain..."

"In reality," Amy continued for him. "You became so ingrained in our lives that... We didn't realise how deeply until you took yourself out."

"Yeah, and that hurt like a bitch," Mark pointed out. 

Amy laughed softly. "Eef, you're important to us. _So_ important. So much so that we didn't even realise that you needed to hear it."

Mark reached out, his hand curling around Ethan's. "Dude, we love you too."

Ethan felt like he might pass out. Or throw up. Or just straight up die. Or all three and maybe in that exact order. He took a step back, feeling in a daze.

"You... what?" he asked.

"I love you," Amy said. "Mark loves you. We just didn't realise it and then... you sent me that voicemail and it all made sense. All of it, why you pulled away, why you had been so distant... Why we felt so comfortable around you, why you felt like our family."

Ethan bit her lip for a moment. Tears welled up in his eyes. "You really do?"

"Yeah," Mark gave his hand a squeeze. "If I had realised sooner, we might have been able to help you. We never meant to cause you any pain."

Ethan moved quickly, scared that this might be a dream. He thrust himself at Mark, kissing him in the same way that Amy had kissed him. Quick and not long enough to be registered before he pulled back. When he did, Amy's hand was in his. She was blushing, her eyes sparkling. Ethan couldn't help but feel the way his heart raced, so hard and so excited. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm _so_ sorry... I was just so scared that I would lose you two by admitting it but I was so hurt..."

"No more of that," Amy said, her other hand was clasped in Mark's. They were a unit. "You have us now."

He liked the sound of that. He really did.

"I do?" he asked.

"You do." Amy nodded. 

Ethan felt like his heart might explode in his chest. "What now?"

Amy looked at Mark, smirking. He returned the calculated look.

"We've got a lot of making up to do," Mark said.

Amy's smirk grew and she dragged them both, by the hand, towards the stairs. Ethan felt as though he were in a state of euphoria as he was lead upstairs, stumbling after Amy and Mark. He didn't know what was going on but he liked where it was headed. Once in his bedroom, Amy dropped her grip on their heads and swapped it for the front of their respective t-shirts. She pulled Mark in for a kiss first and as they did, Ethan didn't feel so dirty for enjoying watching it. Once she had pulled away, she kissed him next. 

While they kissed, her tongue in his mouth, he felt Mark move behind him, his strong hands slipping under his t-shirt, running up over his stomach. He felt a fluttering of butterflies. He very much liked this version of making up and while he kept kissing Amy, he tilted his head to allow Mark more room. A sense of deja vu washed over him and he pulled away, just enough.

"Follow me," he muttered.

He guided them over to the bed, getting on. Patting the space to his left, he guided Amy to sit there and Mark on the other side. A smile crept on his features, a dream come true right in front of him as he kissed Amy once more, his hand searching for Mark to bring him closer. He felt his sturdy chest against his arm, how much bigger he felt compared to his other lover, and his heart fluttered in pure delight once more. Amy's hand slipped into his shorts, soft but expert fingers finding his cock beneath the laters.

Her touch made him jump, out of shock and a burst of pleasure. He shimmied back right against Mark and it made all of the shock melt away. 

"Easy," Mark cooed, deep voice sounding even more delectable now. His hands once more raking over Ethan's body. "She knows what she's doing."

Amy blushed at the compliment but began to stroke Ethan nonetheless. He helped her out by shimmying his shorts down his legs, letting himself be free from the restraints. Mark's mouth nipped at his neck once again but Ethan wasn't letting him getting away so easily. He reached behind him and let his hand brush over Mark's semi. He gasped, softly, in Ethan's ear and Ethan smiled. His hand reached into Mark's clothes and felt for him. It wasn't hard to miss, nice and big and Ethan was almost offended that it'd been kept from him. He wrapped his hand around it and began to stroke Mark in unison with Amy's strokes.

He wasn't sure what brought him more pleasure, Amy's hand or pleasing Mark. He moaned, soft and needy while he heard Mark moan too, right in his ear. It might have been the best sound he'd ever heard Mark make, second only to his laugh. 

"You like that?" Amy purred.

Ethan nodded, head turning to see Mark. His eyes were half closed, lips still pressing to Ethan's shoulder. It still felt too good to be true. He found use of his free hand and dragged Amy closer, right against him. Amy hooked her legs around him and Mark, pressing the three of them together into one, almost seamless being. It felt right, like this is where they had to be. 

He reached forward, letting go of Mark to the sound of a half whine, and reached for Amy. His hands ran over her sides and together, the two of them removed her t-shirt. Next was his own, so that now he was fully naked. As Amy climbed fully onto his lap, Ethan felt Mark's hand on his, guiding it between her legs so that the other could show him exactly how she liked it. She was wet to the touch and Ethan managed to slid in two fingers easily. She hummed in response, a sweet sound of pleasure as her head tilted back. Mark moved his hand for him, bringing it in and out, moving it around to keep her pleased while his other hand took Ethan's chin and turned him to face him. They kissed to the feeling of Amy on their hands and it was perfect, so _so_ perfect.

"You can fuck her," Mark said, words that might have sounded like a trap if Ethan wasn't so sure of this. "And I can fuck you."

Ethan thought he might've passed out. He probably would've if this had been some sort of nightmare. 

Instead, he nodded enthusiastically. Mark took charge, momentarily, pulling their hands away from Amy for just a moment. They shifted around in the bed, until they were in the exact position Ethan had always dreamed they would've been in. He watched, eagerly, as Amy helped Mark undress, revealing the body he had fantasied so much about, both of them naked before him like he had his own God and Goddess all to his mere mortal self. Ethan pulled them both in for eager, hungry kisses. The reciprocated easily and when they pulled back, Amy's hands were on his shoulders, guiding him to face her. Ethan's stomach churned excitedly as she hooked a leg over his waist, one hand moving to hold his cock so that she could line them up. 

Slowly, she sank down on him, coming face to face and then she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him, eagerly and began to roll her hips. It felt _good_ being inside of her, a mixture of pleasure and excitement and it was a lot wetter than he anticipated. She was fucking him and all he could do was stare at her, dumbfounded and totally enamoured by how she looked, eyes closed and cheeks a flushed red. Her hair splayed out around her head and he fought he might have gone absolutely insane just looking at her like that. 

It was so much of a dream come true that he almost didn't feel Mark's hands on him, but they were there, running over his body until they found his ass. One arm wrapped around both him and Amy while the other, lubed up, being to finger at him. The sensation jerked at the feeling, a rush of pure lust and need crashing through his nervous system like being struck by lightning. It a domino effect, it caused him to slam into Amy, who cried out in a sweet moan. Mark chuckled and slipped a finger inside. Ethan groaned and his head fell back against Mark's shoulder. The heat between them was more than just temperature now. 

Mark dragged his finger back and forth, effectively fucking him as Amy rode him and Ethan wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve such pleasure but he wasn't question it. As he drove his hips forward, he found that it helped. He could both thrust into Amy and help Mark all at once. They kept this up for some time, Ethan feeling like a rather hot carousel horse as he moved between them, entering and exiting all at once. 

It was better than a dream, much better than all of those nights he'd lain awake, jerking himself off to the thought of them. If that lonely boy had known what would be happening right now, he might have actually straight up died. Ethan still felt that he might. 

Soon, Mark removed his fingers from inside Ethan and changed tactic. His hands gripped Ethan's hips, both he and Amy stilling so that Mark could line up and then, sink deep into him. Ethan at first felt himself go a little rigid, not used to the feeling just yet but Mark still when he was all the way in, his arm wrapped around Ethan's waist. He pressed gentle kissed to his shoulder while Amy distracted him with a proper kissed. Ethan didn't need the distractions but the kisses were so soft and gentle that he thought he might have been falling in love all over again.

"Yeah?" Mark grunted in his ear.

It was low, guttural, and Ethan could tell he was just barely holding on. To know that a guy like _Mark_ was so eager to fuck him that he was just barely holding it back made Ethan feel giddy with confidence. He might not have been the most confident person in the world but something like this worked wonders.

"Yeah," he echoed.

Mark began to thrust. In and out and Ethan felt like he might have just reached nirvana. Amy's arms came around his neck as she kissed him once more, swallowing up all of his moans while she rolled her hips in rhythm. She met Mark's thrusts, meaning that they both fucked him in unison and Ethan knew that he could never get better than this. He would never be able to wake up and wish for an experience that would leave him _this_ wrecked in the best way possible.

The back and forth between them, so much tension built up over so much time together. Unknown and known feelings spilling out all at once. Ethan couldn't concentrate on one of them at a time, when he tried to focus on how Mark felt thrusting inside of him, he would feel Amy, wet and tight around him, and then he'd focus on her only to be dragged right back to Mark's cock. Instead, he allowed himself to melt into the feeling of it all, two different kinds of equally satisfying tightness as one thrust into him and the other rode him. 

And he felt stupid, just for the briefest moments, for being so sad over all of this for so long when all he had to do was just _say it_. He was never going to do that again. 

"I love you," he panted to both of them at once. 

Soft breaths were shared between them.

Mark's mouth was at his ear. "I love you too."

Amy's was against his. "I love you both."

A barrage of confessions, Ethan was on cloud nine and he was never coming down. His life couldn't get any better than this very moment, the three of them tangled up in each other, a mess of wetness and lust. It was a different kind of sex, the kind that old married couples had because they were so in love and had known each other for so long. It was making love, in a way, to each other. All three of them sharing their bodies to share their love, so many weeks and months of built up love that had gone to waste being made up for now. 

Amy came to a stop, thighs shuddering as she came. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, painfully, as she came. The way she held onto him, shook against him, was enough for Ethan to come too, spilling into her with a soft cry that he'd only imitated before. Mark, ever the over achiever, came last, right into Ethan after a few more thrusts, the euphoria of it all enough to carry him over. 

And what was left in the wake of such a charged moment was three very tired but very content people. Three people who had spent so much time aching the past few days but all of that was gone now.

Over him, Amy and Mark kissed. Ethan smiled, knowing that he was never going to get used to being a part of this but he didn't want to. He wanted it to keep being fun and exciting. He loved them both so much. 

Clean up wasn't a priority. They all detatched intimately from each other only to attach again. Amy curled up against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso while he wrapped his own around her. Mark, the third piece to their trio puzzle wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling Ethan's back flush to his chest. It was warm between them but the best kind of warm. Mark's mouth was against him once more, a last time for the night as he pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. Ethan smiled, eyes closed and melted into him in a dream come true.

And when he woke up the next morning, he found that it kept on coming true.


End file.
